


All Hallows

by thecaptainspeaks



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Samhain, and SMUT, lots of fluff, with sex toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecaptainspeaks/pseuds/thecaptainspeaks
Summary: The seasons are changing, and the witches at Fort Salem celebrate Samhain.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 192





	All Hallows

Raelle loved this time of year. Shorter days and longer nights that made the world feel like it was settling in for a long wintery sleep; the brisk chill in the air at dawn and dusk; the way leaves went from emerald to ruby, topaz, and amber. Sometimes the rich, errant smell of a civilian bonfire would find its way to the base. Whenever that happened she would miss being in the Cession. Sitting around a firepit, red plastic cup of moonshine or whiskey in hand and, more often than not, a pretty girl sitting in her lap.

Those were the days. No drilling, no War College classes, no Camarilla.

But on the other hand, no Scylla.

She frowned into the pages of the book on her desk. After ten minutes of staring at the same paragraph it still wasn’t computing in her brain. The sounds of preparations coming from outside their open window were only part of what distracted her.

Where the hell was Abigail?

As if on cue the blaster opened the door and walked in. An outfit wrapped in dry cleaner’s plastic was draped over her arm.

“Here you go, shit bird. I hope it fits.”

“Yes!” Raelle said, jumping up to take it. She removed the plastic, eyes taking in the maroon fabric and its subtle metallic sheen. The part she made by hand sat on the edge of her desk, ready and waiting. “Thanks Bells. I owe you one.”

“I’ll remember that,” she answered with a smile. “What’s necro wearing tonight?”

“I don’t know. That’s the point, right? I’m supposed to just like, find her in the crowd.”

“Yeah, you have fun with that.” Abigail sat on her bed. “I’m glad you two have figured your shit out. I didn’t like having you all mopey all the time.”

“It’s a work in progress,” Raelle said as she hung the suit in her closet. “But me too. We’re getting there.”

“Are you excited for tonight?”

“I am!” Tally practically shouted as she walked in. “Where’s the suit? Can I see it on you?”

“You’ll see it later, Tal.”

“Oh, all right,” the redhead said, deflating a little. “But you better not leave without me seeing it. I doubt it’ll survive the night. Hey!” she yelped as Raelle threw a pillow at her. “What? From what I’ve heard, Samhain is the necro’s Beltane.”

Raelle’s heart sped up at the thought. She’d often wondered what would have happened on that hot May day if Scylla had been on the dance floor with them. Would she have gripped the front of Scylla’s dress instead of Byron’s shirt?

Guess she’d be finding out tonight.

“Too bad the dance is _invite only_ ,” Abigail said.

“The rest of it isn’t,” Raelle pointed out.

“Sure, why would I want to dress up in pretty clothes and dance the night away when I can bob for apples or carve a pumpkin?”

“Which are equally important Samhain traditions.”

“You get to go to the fun one,” Tally pouted.

“Date a necro, then,” Raelle shrugged. Abigail laughed.

Scylla had asked her five days ago if she’d celebrate Samhain with her. They were in Scylla’s room after a long day of training. Raelle laid stretched out on the bed with her books and Scylla sat at her desk with her own. Aside from the quiet sound of pen scratching on paper and rain pattering against the windowpane it was peaceful. It was warm, and cozy, and Raelle had fallen asleep.

She woke up to find Scylla snuggled against her side, the reading glasses Raelle loved on her placed on the bedside table next to her now neatly-stacked books.

“Hey sleepyhead.”

“Mm. Hey,” Raelle mumbled. “Sorry, I must’ve dozed off.”

“It’s okay. You had a tough day.” She studied Raelle’s face, teeth worrying her bottom lip. She did that when she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite bring herself to say it.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah! Um...” she trailed off, looking across the room at her calendar. Her hand found one of Raelle’s and twined their fingers together. “So. Samhain is next week. The whole base celebrates with like, the usual traditions and everything. We, the necros, that is, we have our own private celebration.”

“Oh? That’s cool.”

“There’s music, and dancing, and costumes. It’s a masquerade ball, actually.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It is.” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I was wondering, and you are free to say no to this‒”

“Yes,” Raelle cut her off with a smile and a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll go with you.”

“Don’t agree so fast,” Scylla said, looking her in the eyes. “Beltane has magic to bring people together. Samhain is different. The veil between this world and the next is at its thinnest, and the dead like to get into...mischief.”

“I’m not afraid of the dead,” she scoffed.

“Raelle,” Scylla sighed. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s believed that if the spirits keep lovers separated during the ball then they’re not meant to be. That’s why it’s a closed party. It helps keep the drama down around base.”

“Oh.”

“I know things haven’t been easy for us. We’ve just gotten our balance back. I’ll understand if you don’t want to take the risk.”

Raelle’s thumb and forefinger on her chin gently brought Scylla’s lips up to hers for a short but sturdy kiss.

“For you, that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I came back from the dead once already, so it’ll take more than a few meddling ghosts to keep me away from you.”

Scylla smiled and leaned up for another kiss. There was no point in worrying about the holiday now, not when she could live in this moment while it lasted. Rain pattering softly at her window, the room dimly lit and cozy, and Raelle back in her arms. That was enough.

*~*~*

As dusk turned to night the grounds of Fort Salem were coated in a thin cloud of fog, lit from within by the jack o'lanterns burning hot along the paths. All unnecessary lights were extinguished, heightening the darkness. Bonfires were lit somewhere on base, the smell of woodsmoke filling the air. Raelle took a deep breath as she stepped out of Circe, excited for whatever was about to happen.

Samhain was a celebration and she was ready to party.

The suit fit perfectly. She looked damn good in maroon, and the silky black dress shirt under the blazer reflected the light like oil. Her handmade mask gleamed, the gold muted in the pale moonlight. It covered the upper half of her face, antlers rising up from each temple to twist in the space above her head. A black snake twisted around them, its eyes painted a shimmering red to catch the light.

Tally said the mask was a bit much, even for a Samhain masquerade. Abigail called it badass. Raelle thought it added the perfect finishing touch.

Invitation in hand, she lowered the mask over her features and set off across the base for the training field.

_It’s a masquerade, so you’ll need to dress up, mask included,” Scylla told her._

_“Okay. What’re you wearing?”_

_“I can’t tell you. The point of it is to find each other. It’s bad luck for us to know what each other will look like.”_

_“You necros sure do have a lot of rules,” Raelle said with a playful deadpan._

_“It’s an exclusive club. We can’t let just anybody in,” she teased back._

_“Then it’s a good thing I’m not just anybody.” Raelle leaned in to kiss her._

_“Mm, a very good thing,” Scylla said, kissing her back._

Frightening faces illuminated the paths she took, casting eerie shadows everywhere she looked. Maybe Scylla was right after all; it sure as shit felt like she was surrounded by spirits. Idly she wondered who they were. Would they help or hinder her tonight?

Two massive fires came into view as she rounded the final corner, each easily ten feet in diameter. A pair of officers stood in front of them, blocking the path between the blazes that led onto the field behind them. Their masks were simple, one half a flat white and the other a flat black, covering their entire faces.

“Invitation?”

“Right here,” she said, handing it over.

The officer looked it over, then nodded. “Recite the prayer as you pass between the fires. Be cleansed, and have a blessed Samhain.”

“Prayer? I didn’t know any for this.”

“Don’t worry,” the other officer said, “you will.”

Raelle looked past them at the crowd on the other side. Scylla was in there somewhere, waiting for her.

“Whatever you say.”

The officers stepped aside for her to pass. The heat pressed in from both sides, air thick with smoke and the deep, heavy sensation of magic. Words came unbidden:

“ _The veil grows thing at the time of the dead_

_As we honor our long-gone ancestors_

_In whose footsteps we tread._

_Life retreats into the bulbs and the roots,_

_The time has passed for the flowers and the fruits,_

_As leaves fall thick and carpet the ground_

_The Dark Mother waits in silence profound._

_Now is the time for the apple feasts,_

_Time stands still for humans and beasts._

_Seek the wisdom from days gone by,_

_To deal with the past and let it lie._

_Face your shadow and accept your faults,_

_Look now to the future to seek your results._ ”

Raelle shivered as she emerged on the other side. She felt different, lighter somehow. Her senses were sharper, more alert to every shift in the air.

The training field had been transformed into an outdoor ballroom. Long tables lined two sides of it, one half laden with food and drink, the other half set up for feasting. Candles and mushrooms adorned them, inky caps and black trumpets and morels; those were just the ones she recognized thanks to Scylla. Cream, black, purple, blue, red; they created a macabre rainbow of decorative fungus. She had a feeling Sergeant L’Amara was behind it.

The other two sides of the field were hemmed in by tall, angular shrubs. There was one opening on each side; the entrance and exit of the maze.

A string quartet played from a dais at the far end of the dance floor. Situated in the center of the field, it was identical to the floor from Beltane except that this one was made of black marble. Four poles stood tall at each corner, a chandelier of antlers hanging suspended from lines drawn taut. Black, red, and orange candles burned within.

_Have there always been this many necros on base?_ She wondered as she weaved through the crowd. With Witch Father and the other male soldiers there the number of people was overwhelming at best. The fact that everyone was wearing a mask made it more disorienting. Samhain was a blend of colors and fabrics, masks made of cloth and lace, some plain while others put hers to shame in their ornateness.

How on earth was she going to find Scylla in all of this?

She made her way to the food tables to peruse the options. Apples. So many apples. Breads topped with rosemary. A roasted pig. Pumpkin dishes galore, especially pies. Corn on the cob next to bowl after bowl of walnuts, hazelnuts, and chestnuts. The necros really knew how to throw a party. She grabbed a glass of apple cider, stopping when she heard a familiar voice a few feet away.

“Don’t sell yourself short, even if there’s no market for you.”

“What?” Byron asked, the confusion on his face turning into a big grin when he saw her. “What nonsense is that?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that the friend pickup line you used on me at Beltane?”

“Close enough, Raelle, close enough,” he said, pulling her into a hug.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked. “Were all of you guys blanket invited, or…?”

He put his hands on his hips in mock offense. “I will have you know you’re not the only one around here with a special necro in their life.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Percy.”

“Percy?” Raelle laughed. “Byron and Percy. What a couple.”

“Like Scylla and Raelle sounds so much better,” he retorted.

“All right, fair game,” she said, holding up her glass for him to clink his against. “Have you found him yet?”

“No, but the night’s still young. I thought I might take a tour of the dance floor first and then go from there. Have you found Scylla?”

“I just got here.” She looked across the way, eyes drawn to the maze. Byron followed her line of sight, sighing.

“The last place I want to look is also the likeliest place I’ll find him. Better have more of these,” he said, throwing back the rest of his cider. “I hope you find your lady tonight. Good luck out there.”

“You too. I hope you find your man.”

Byron nodded and went to hunt around on the dance floor.

The quartet picked up a new song, something slow, dark, and haunting. Raelle’s feet moved almost on their own accord, drawing her in the maze’s direction. She grabbed another glass on her way, resolving to make the best of it.

It was dark in the maze. Small, single jack o’lanterns sat at each junction, as far as she could tell, but there was no light other than those. A table covered in old-school lanterns sat next to the entrance, matches there for those willing to brave the maze. Raelle lit one, hefting it up against the darkness.

“Here goes nothing.”

She ran from one dead end into the next, time and time again. Occasionally she caught sight of another lantern, pressing herself forward until she either realized it wasn’t Scylla, or it disappeared. It was impossible to track how much time had passed since she entered; it seemed like mere moments, and an eternity. Especially when all of her cider was gone.

Scylla was in here. She could _feel_ it.

Maybe the dead weren’t such bad wingmen after all.

She rounded a corner, almost stumbling into a couple wrapped heatedly in each other’s arms, masks thrown back. Raelle thought she’d die of embarrassment. She turned swiftly to hurry in the opposite direction. She prayed that neither of them noticed her.

Anacostia and Izadora, making out in the maze like teenagers.

She was happy for them, sure, but _really_?

(Okay, but if she found Scylla in here, they would likely be caught doing the same.)

This was getting frustrating. Each new path left her empty-handed, and she was dying for more cider. It felt colder in the maze, too, colder than a night in late October should be.

_The spirits will keep lovers apart if it’s not meant to be._

“With all due respect, fuck you, spirits. Where’s my girlfriend?”

The sounds of the party were growing louder. Raelle hadn’t realized that being in the maze dampened the noise. So she must be close to the exit.

And still no Scylla.

“Okay, look, I’m sorry I said that. I’ve got a lot riding on tonight and would appreciate your help. So please, help me find Scylla.”

Three turns later and the exit was ten yards away.

“Oh thank fuck.”

She needed another drink.

After returning the lantern she made a beeline for the drink table. Halfway there, something across the field caught her eye. A glint of gold around a midnight blue mask, the wearer’s head tossed back in laughter. A crown of roses the same shade of blue circled dark hair, contrasting beautifully with pale skin.

Raelle stopped dead in her tracks.

That had to be her.

Dancers twirled across the floor between them, a waltz obscuring her girlfriend every three beats. She had to get over there.

Skirting the edge of the dance floor, she made her way around to the small cluster of necros standing near the entrance of the maze.

Or, to where they used to be.

_The hell? They were just here._

Raelle stood on her tiptoes, neck craned to look around. They couldn’t have gotten far…

There she was, once again on the other side. Raelle swore under her breath, reversing course. This time they were next to the drink table, she made sure to note. Two birds, one stone.

Except when she got there, they were gone again. How was she this disoriented? She didn’t think she was that drunk.

“Son of a bitch,” she murmured, downing half a glass of cider. “I swear these ghosts are fucking with me on purpose.”

She hoped Byron was having better luck than she was. At least one of them deserved to have a good Samhain.

Maybe after another lap around the field her luck would improve. With the full moon high overhead she did just that, eyes scanning the dancers, the people mingling around, and those sitting at the tables. Scylla might as well have turned invisible; she was nowhere to be found.

Her attention elsewhere, Raelle bumped into someone.

“Shit, sorry Scyl.”

Wait.

“Scylla!”

The brunette laughed, and Raelle thought it was the best sound she’d heard all night. Her girlfriend’s costume, an elegant dress the color of the sky at dusk wrapped in black lace with flower details along the neckline and bodice, absolutely stole Raelle’s breath away.

“You found me,” Scylla said, smiling.

“I did,” Raelle nodded. She couldn’t help but grin as she asked, “What’s my prize?”

“Hmm,” she said, biting her lower lip as she studied Raelle’s face. “How about...a kiss.”

“Hey Scyl,” Raelle whispered, leaning in closer, “don’t tell anyone else, but I think I won the best prize tonight.”

Scylla giggled, pulling her in to give her her prize. Raelle tasted like woodsmoke and cider. When they broke apart she leaned in to whisper in Raelle’s ear:

“This is just a taste for what comes later.”

A shiver ran down Raelle’s spine, though this one had to do with a different kind of magic.

“Let’s dance.”

Raelled led her to the floor. The cello laid out a haunting melody while the violins soared over it, upbeat and lively. They floated through the steps together, eyes only on each other.

“I’m glad you found me. I was a little worried,” Scylla admitted.

“Really?”

“We’ve been through a lot, Rae, to say the least. I know we’ve been working on us for a while now, but sometimes the old doubts creep back in.”

“I don’t care what opinions some crazy old spirits have about us. I know we’re meant to last, and that’s good enough for me.”

Scylla’s heart fluttered at the words. She laid her head on Raelle’s shoulders.

“Do you remember the last time we danced together like this?” Raelle asked.

“It was at the Bellweather wedding.”

“I knew it back then, just as much as I know it now. Hell, I was ready to pull Sergeant Tansey aside and have her do the rope-and-water thing with us that day.”

“Oh yeah?” Scylla looked at her, a playful grin on her face. “Why didn’t you?”

“Didn’t have a ring,” Raelle shrugged.

“I don’t need a ring, as long as I have you.”

“Nope,” Raelle shook her head. “It’s not proper without rings.”

“That’s a civilian tradition.”

“Rings mean forever, Scyl. That’s how long I intend to keep you around, if you’ll have me.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re proposing now,” Scylla teased.

“No ma’am,” Raelle said, a serious look on her face. “I still don’t have a ring yet.”

Scylla laughed; she couldn’t help it, Raelle was just too adorable.

“How many ciders have you had?”

Raelle cocked her head, thinking. “Three? Four? I don’t know, it took longer for me to find you than I thought it would.”

“Come on then,” Scylla tugged her off the dance floor. She spied Byron at the far end of the dance floor swaying in the arms of a tall, sandy blond in a suit matching his own. “We should get you to bed.”

That caught Raelle’s attention.

“Are you propositioning me? Because if so, I accept.”

Hand in hand, they giggled their way through Samhain’s darkness back to Scylla’s room.

With the door firmly shut, locked, and warded against noise getting through, they found themselves in a position similar to the first time they’d done this: Scylla’s back pressed against the wall while Raelle lavished attention on her neck. Raelle’s hands were on her hips to hold her steady, Scylla’s fingers digging into her back. The soft sound of small moans filled the room, briefly accompanied by a zipper being undone. Raelle moved back far enough for her to shrug off the top of her dress before returning with a vengeance, lips worshipping every bit of skin they touched.

Scylla pushed back against her, stepping out of the fabric now pooled around her ankles. Raelle let herself be led, shedding her jacket and mask along the way. Scylla’s mask and crown of roses followed. Deft fingers pulled her shirt out from her pants, rewarding themselves with the warmth of the taut ab muscles beneath her fingertips. Raelle pulled it off over her head.

The back of Raelle’s legs hit the bed and they fell onto it in a tangle of limbs, lips crashing together. Raelle shifted to be on top, straddling Scylla’s waist while she undid the button of her pants. Scylla rose up to unclasp her bra, mouth finding a pert nipple to swirl her tongue around. Raelle groaned in appreciation, head rolling back as her girlfriend switched sides. She took off her pants, throwing them onto the floor with the rest of their clothes.

“It’s a shame,” Scylla said as Raelle settled back in on top of her, “I really liked that suit on you.”

“Your dress was something else too, sweetheart.”

“Samhain isn’t usually a gift-giving holiday,” Scylla said between kisses, “but I do have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh? I didn’t get you anything.”

“Don’t worry, this is a mutually beneficial sort of gift.”

Raelle quirked an eyebrow as she let Scylla get up. She crossed the room and retrieved something out of one of her drawers. She came back to the bed with a black dildo shaped like an uneven U with one side longer than the other, and some lube.

Raelle’s jaw dropped, heat pooling between her legs. “Is that a‒”

“Yep.”

“And we’re gonna‒”

“Only if you want to. I thought it would be fun.”

“I, yeah, I think it will be.” She took it from her, running her hand along it. “How do you want to use it?”

Scylla pushed Raelle onto her back and straddled her, leaning down until their faces were inches apart. “Do you want a show tonight?” She swallowed, nodding. “There’s your answer then.”

She slid her underwear off while Raelle wriggled out of hers. Lowering herself back down, their lips met again in a deep, slow kiss. Raelle’s hand slipped past a tangle of dark curls, fingers sinking into wet velvety heat. Scylla inhaled sharply, hips shifting forward to draw her in further. Raelle obliged, burying herself knuckle-deep before pulling out, repeating the motion several times.

“I think you’re ready.”

Scylla’s hand reached between Raelle’s legs, teasing at her entrance. “Mm, I think you are, too.”

Raelle grabbed the bottle of lube from the bedside table, putting a few drops onto the smaller half and rubbing it on. The blonde’s witch mark reflected the room’s dim lighting, and Scylla bit her bottom lip as she watched Raelle slide the toy into herself, relishing the sight. Scylla spread some lube onto the shaft before kneeling over Raelle, grasping it with one hand to position it properly.

Raelle watched with half-lidded eyes as Scylla’s fingers spread herself before lowering onto it. Inch by inch it disappeared inside her girlfriend; this was by far the most erotic thing Raelle ever had the intense pleasure of witnessing.

“How’s it feel?”

“Fucking amazing,” Scylla said, opening her eyes. “Just give me a second to adjust.”

“Take your time, baby.”

Scylla gently rocked back and forth, the sight mesmerizing Raelle. The sway of her hips, the way her abs flexed and relaxed, how soft and kissable her breasts looked in the low light. Raelle sat up, taking a nipple in her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. She felt Scylla arch into the touch, delighting in the low moan that filled the room as she switched to lavish the same on her other nipple. Scylla’s fingers threaded through blonde hair, pulling Raelle back slightly. Raelle stubbornly stayed put, teeth scraping against one hardened peak, then the other. Scylla tugged again; this time Raelle let herself be drawn away, laying back when Scylla pushed her down.

With Scylla straddling her Raelle felt invincible. 

When the brunette began to ride her, rising and falling on the toy that linked the two, Raelle gripped her hips to steady her. Scylla leaned back to brace herself; Raelle loved the way her breasts bounced in time with the rhythm their bodies set, falling apart and coming together again and again like the waves on the shore of their favorite beach.

Quiet moans and ragged breathing accompanied the sound of their lovemaking. Raelle could tell Scylla was getting close; fluttering eyes and teeth biting her lower lip were dead giveaways. She leaned forward, one hand on Raelle’s thigh for balance while the other played with her clit. Her fingers circled hard and fast while Raelle’s nails dug into her hips. She held Scylla still, thrusting up to bury herself deep in her girlfriend. A low growl escaped her throat from the intense beauty of what they were doing.

Scylla tensed above her, fingers still rapidly swirling, head thrown back. Her mouth was open in a soundless O as she came. Raelle stared transfixed, marveling at her.

A blessed Samhain indeed.

Scylla gingerly lifted herself off the toy and collapsed into Raelle’s arms. Body still twitching with aftershocks, she rolled onto her side. After taking it out Raelle leaned against her, wrapping an arm around her waist while they spooned. She placed gentle kisses along her back and shoulder, tenderly brushing hair back to pepper more on her neck and cheek. Giggling, Scylla pressed herself against her.

“Stop, Rae. That tickles.”

“Can’t. You’re too amazing to not kiss.”

“Mm. You, miss Collar, are the amazing one here.”

“Nope, no way. You didn’t see what I just watched. It was incredible. You’re incredible, and I love you.”

“I love you, too. Maybe I’ll get my own show some time,” Scylla said, rolling over to face her. They shared a slow, languid kiss. Raelle broke away with a soft gasp when slim fingers slipped inside of her. “I’ve had my fun, it’s time you had yours.”

Scylla took the dildo from her with her free hand, putting the smaller part inside herself. After sliding a pillow under Raelle’s ass for leverage, she spread her legs wide, satisfied she was ready.

“Is this okay?”

“More than okay, Scyl,” she responded, voice thick with desire.

“How rough?”

“A little bit more than usual. This is a special occasion, after all.”

“Okay.” She positioned the tip at the apex of Raelle’s thighs. “I’ll start off slow until you get used to it, since this is a new toy.”

“Sounds good to me,” Raelle said, lifting her head up to watch.

Scylla spread her lips with one hand while the other guided it in. Raelle moaned, her head rolling back onto the pillow. Scylla pushed it in slowly, watching Raelle’s reactions the whole time to ensure her girlfriend was okay. Not that she could look away, even if she wanted to; Raelle’s body was exquisite.

“You good, Rae?”

“Much better than okay,” she breathed.

“Good,” Scylla said, pulling out until only the tip was in. She moved in and out experimentally a few more times, finding the right angle.

Taking Raelle’s hands in one of hers, she pinned them on the pillow above her head. Raelle looked up at her with hungry eyes, her hips rising up to meet Scylla’s.

“I’m ready baby. Fuck me.”

Scylla did. She thrust herself in and out of Raelle, her bed frame squeaking beneath them. She leaned down to kiss her neck, biting on the places she knew Raelle liked, the ones that made her shiver in the best possible way. Her tongue soothed the pain away before her teeth assaulted the next sensitive spot. The blonde was putty in her hands, every other breath coming out as a whine or moan.

Music to Scylla’s ears.

She picked up the pace, hips thrusting faster as she fucked Raelle senseless. She watched her breasts bounce as her back arched. Raelle had been close before; Scylla knew she was right on the edge now, dangerously close to falling over it.

“Cum for me baby,” she whispered in Raelle’s ear, voice husky. She nibbled on her earlobe. “Show me how much of a good girl you are.”

Raelle whimpered, completely at Scylla’s mercy. Her legs wrapped around Scylla’s waist, body tensing around her, the side of her face pressed into the pillow as she came with a loud moan.

“That’s my girl,” Scylla encouraged softly while Raelle rode it through. She pulled out and slipped it out of herself. Her free hand cupped Raelle, the heel of it directly on her clit. Moments later a second orgasm hit her, just as intense as the first. “Good girl,” she cooed.

“Stop,” Raelle groaned, swatting her hand away. “Don’t make me regret showing you that trick.”

“You like that trick though,” Scylla purred.

“Mm. I do.”

Raelle pulled her down for a deep, slow, passionate kiss. Scylla’s hand found hers, fingers twining together.

“Happy Samhain, Scyl.”

“Happy Samhain, Rae.”


End file.
